Chocolate Brings Out the Best in Us
by DreamSummoner
Summary: Larxene passes on some tips to the newest noob, Roxas. Slightly drabble. Akuroku tease later on. Oneshot, maybe.


(24.jul.06)

I thought this up while I was making cookies, lol. I though it'd be cute. A softer side to the snarky Larxy we love so much, and of course, our favorite angst-ridden Nobody, Roxas, together telling stories about the rough life of the neophytes.

Not romantic at ALL. LarxenexRoxas is such a crack! pairing... god, even looking at that word makes me sick...I want to minimize it... Plus, I'm a **_diehard_** akuroku fan, and that's not changing anytime soon.

**...And Now for Your Reading Pleasure...**

a DreamSummoner production

brought to by Nothing and Night studios

in part with Wolf Princess Outlooks

presents...

Chocolate Brings Out the Best in Us

Roxas tossed and turned in discomfort, finding nothing soothing about his mattress or sheets. He burrowed his face deeper into the usually soft down of his pillow, pleading with his mind to drift fluidly into blurred blankets of thought to rest for the night-that-always-was. Rebelliously, his thoughts raced and stomped like a restive stallion. It pawed and tossed its head, racing wildly across the plains of his thought. Roxas let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers curling into tight fists as he twisted yet again a tangled net of cotton sheets. He _needed _to sleep. Xaldin was going over reflex training tomorrow afternoon and Luxord was sure to realize Axel and he had been the ones to pilfer aces from his favorite deck. Now that Axel was conveniently off on a mission, Roxas, being the newest member, was a sitting duck for any and all forms of payback.

Roxas flopped on his back, fuming up at the shadowed ceiling, where the dark seemed to loom over him treacherously, as if the moment he looked away it would ooze down the walls and ensnare him.

'_That's it.' _He was worn out, and now his ceiling was machinating to devour him in his sleep. He sat up, groping around in the dark for a suitable shirt, as wandering around in boxers would be highly inappropriate. Once found, he pulled it savagely over his head, his brows knit and hair tussled. He stumbled around his room for his boots before giving up with a scowl and teleporting himself to the kitchen barefoot.

The first thing Roxas cursed was his short temper, then his poor accuracy when it came to teleportation, and finally the Castle for its stately cold marble floors. He danced from foot to foot before sprinting awkwardly into the kitchen. Goal in sight, he jumped deftly on top of a stool and sent it skidding a few inches. Roxas contently relished his prowess (in the midair sitting arts), disregarding his inaccurate teleporting, before his good mood was shattered by the belying scratch of a spoon scrapping a metal bowl. Roxas froze, suddenly overwhelmed by phantom feelings of guilt, something which he could not explain, and forced himself to turn. It was Larxene. Roxas decided this was a worthy punishment for whatever wrongdoing he was supposedly committing. Blurred by this reaction, he failed miserably in taking in his surroundings, a lesson which Xigbar had relentlessly attempted to instill upon him earlier that day.

"_Even in familiar surroundings," he drawled, glowering down at the blonde with his arms folded firmly across his chest. "You should _always _be on the lookout for anything strange."_

_Roxas let his eyes be pulled towards the twisting white shape above him as the Dusk went about doing its errands. "Is that supposed to count?" he quipped wryly._

_"You'll get used to them," Xigbar dismissed the younger member's qualm briskly with a careless wave of the hand. "Now, are you ready?"_

_Xigbar and Roxas engaged in a distorted game of hide-and-seek. No one was hiding, both were seeking. The goal was to sneak up on the other without forewarning of an attack. Roxas supposed it taught stealth and the like, and kept a watchful eye out for any sign of the gun-slinging Nobody. He learned quickly his major disadvantage when he turned last minute to see Xigbar on the ceiling taking a well aimed shot._

_"Well, I'm sorry, I just assumed you obeyed the laws of physics like the rest of us," he retorted when Xigbar chastised him for not paying attention. He shifted his shoulders from stinging discomfort._

_"See!" he shouted triumphantly, pointing an accusing finger at the smaller Nobody's chest. "You're assuming. As soon as you do that you create a blind spot big enough to let the enemy make a killing blow. Assume, and you've lost the fight, got it?"_

_Roxas nodded begrudgingly, eyes averted; the part of his back where he took a direct hit from Xigbar's rayguns was throbbing uncomfortably. All he wanted to do was to take a nap or a bath...something not involving any kind of thinking._

"_I expect you in the Hall of Empty Melodies tomorrow morning; we'll work on your listening skills then," Xigbar told him, already turning. "And go see Vexen for something for your burn wound; it's only gonna get worse."_

'_Great, another reason I should be asleep,'_ he reflected bitterly. _'I had completely forgotten.'_

"Are you gonna sit there all night with that dumbass look on your face, or what?" Larxene scoffed, throwing a spoon into a large silver bowl (which he just noticed she had been holding) and setting it on the counter with an indignant pang. Roxas flinched at the hollow sound, and then realized suddenly what Larxene was doing.

"Are you...baking?" he asked incredibly, wondering for a brief second if he was indeed asleep in his bed and having a severely twisted dream. Being that he was still unaccustomed to the Organization's members, he wasn't sure if this really was the infamous Larxene he had heard stories about from the other members. Somehow he had trouble relating the sadistic feminazi to the blonde, apron-wearing female before him. However, as Larxene was the only member of the Organization who did not possess a y-chromosome, he was convinced this had to be her, despite the contradictory scene before him.

He wasn't sure because of the flour on her cheek, but Roxas thought he saw the stain of a blush on her momentarily startled features. "No, I'm creating non-life from leftover Dusk parts. I'm a regular Victor Frankenstein," she rolled her eyes in disgust and turned to unearth something in a cabinet. Nope, definitely not embarrassment.

"I'm sorry I barged in on you," Roxas said curtly, at a loss for fighting spirit to backtalk other members. He folded his arms and let himself fall into a slump on the black countertop. The cool material was oddly comforting. He listened to Larxene rummage through cabinets, letting his mind wander onto thoughts about Axel and his current mission in that back-water world. He wondered when he'd see him again.

"You ok, kid?"

He looked up groggily. Larxene was cracking open eggs and letting the gooey insides fall unhindered into the steel bowl. As it landed with a muted thud in the flour, a small billow of white rose up like the gossamer remains of a defective parachute.

"I'm fine," he responded mechanically, lowering his head.

"Rough day?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Roxas wondered if she was trying to lead him into some trap where she made him look like a hapless fool. "Kinda." He was too tired to care.

"It's rough in the beginning. They want to test your strengths, eliminate your weaknesses. They want to know you before they get to know you, basically."

"Why?"

"So the old men upstairs can slough their work off on you," she replied with poisonous cheer.

Roxas raised his head, her conversation piquing his interest and gradually dissipating his fatigue. "Are they all that bad?" he asked after a pause.

Larxene looked up after measuring and pouring a dark liquid into the mixture. The innocence of it all put Roxas on edge. "Not really. You'll learn quickly who to avoid and who's tolerable. I'd stay away from four and six if I were you, especially because you're new. And number one."

"You mean Xemnas?" Roxas asked.

"Who else?" Larxene jabbed, giving him a flat look and she turned on a sleek electric mixer. A dark look had fallen across her face during the mention of the higher members; Roxas didn't press the matter.

"Other than that," she mused, pressing an elegant, ungloved finger to her lip. "Avoid pissing seven off...ten is a bit of a gambler, don't bet anything you care about...Two likes shooting things and drinking coffee upside down; Nine is the oddball, but he's good for a laugh. Eleven keeps to himself, like three and five. Eight is kind of a wild card, you'd better see for yourself. What's with the long look?"

"I...nothing."

"Aww, come on," she said, turning off the mixer and sliding the bowl out. He watched a knife appear suddenly in her hand and she opened a bag of chocolate chips easily; the knife vanishing once again. She poured out the contents into the mixture of what was now obviously chocolate chip cookie dough. "Being the noob isn't as bad as they make it out to be. After all, until you showed up I was the lowest number and look how great I turned out!"

"I'm so glad it worked out for you," he mumbled wryly.

"I know," she replied, using a wooden spoon to mix the dough.

"Do you want help with that?" Roxas offered.

"No, you'd probably just ruin it. But you can help later."

"With eating them?" he joked halfheartedly. She raised an eyebrow.

"Yea, right. I did all the work."

"I offered," he pointed out.

She shrugged and turned away to rummage through another cabinet. Roxas took this opportunity and leaned forward, reaching out a tentative hand to-

Shing!

A knife flew by, grazing his finger and imbedded itself with a thunk in the wall on the opposite end of the kitchen. Roxas held his unscathed hand close to his chest.

"How did you-?" he began, but found himself interrupted by the knowing smirk that played on the other blonde's lips.

"Training," she stated smoothly, laying down some baking sheets. "It's obvious that you've been slacking off."

"I've only just started," he retorted sorely.

"Temper, temper, Roxas," she said delicately. "Come over here and help me with...all this," she decided when the proper term escaped her, pointing in the tray and dough's general direction.

"Is this some form of _training_," Roxas scoffed, walking around to help spoon out the dough. He made sure not to winch when he got off his stool and landed on the unforgiving marble.

"Make sure they're this big," Larxene threatened, pointing her spoon at blob of dough on one of her sheets.

"Have you done anything with Xigbar yet?" she asked, handing him two spoons.

"Yea." Roxas responded, making sure that the mounds of dough were of uniform size.

"The whole 'aware of your surroundings' lesson, I presume?"

"Yea."

"That was boring, not to mention a complete cakewalk." Roxas felt a twinge of resentment, or the memory of resentment. Roxas didn't care if it was an emotion or not at this point. "Wait until the later lessons; then it gets really fun."

"Fun?" he responded with skepticism.

"Of course. It's all long distance aiming and stuff, it's really useful," she added with a smirk.

"Did you really enjoy training?" he asked.

"Of course!"

He gave her a pointed look.

"It's the only time you can hit them and get away scot-free," she smirked, moving on to the next tray. "Use that as your motivation; worked for me."

"What other types of training are there?" Roxas asked, wanting the subject to move away from Xigbar's lessons.

"Well, Xaldin will test your agility, and Lexaeus's training will make you physically stronger. You'll be running a lot with him, it's a real pain, but it keeps us all in shape. Anyone with an elemental affiliation will try to see if you have any innate skill at casting that spell, otherwise Vexen will so some tests on you. Basically, you'll end up fighting some of us. The battles will teach you a lot more, but training wise, only a few older members participate. There's a sparring room in the Castle, so you can challenge anyone. I wouldn't recommend that to you know though, you'd be creamed for sure."

Roxas ignored the latter statement and handed Larxene his finished tray so she could put in the oven (sleek and black because the Organization is _all_ about appearances). "What kind of tests?" Roxas asked, referring to the elemental affiliations.

"Never took them. Demyx did, he's number nine, and he got this really weird look on his face when I asked him about them, so I honestly can't tell you anything about them."

"So...how'd you find your element?"

"Hmm..." She paused for a moment, than resumed her work with the cookies. "I think it was in a scrimmage with Xaldin. I was really getting pissed off because he kept deflecting all my attacks with his spears, and he was moving really quickly, probably because we were on this windy mountain top and he had the field advantage. I just got so aggravated and then all of a sudden sheet lightening erupted from everywhere. I was great," she sighed, as if recalling a favorite pet. "You can ask Demyx about the tests, though I doubt you'll get a response."

"What element does he control?"

"Water."

Roxas didn't want to know how Vexen discovered Demyx's "innate ability".

"Try getting really pissed off at Xiggy. Maybe your element is flare. That'd be great." She chuckled as she played out the scene in her head.

"You really like revenge, don't you?"

"It passes the time," she admitted, her smile more roguish than sheepish.

They filled the cookie sheets quickly. Nothing remained on the inside of the bowl but the dregs of dough, tire trails around the sphere track. Larxene scoffed when he asked if they should clean up and threw her spoons and some other dirty dishes into the sink for the Dusks to clean; all the ingredients had already been put away. Larxene jumped up onto a stool, perching herself delicately while she waited for the timer to beep, looking outside a window at the eternal nightscape. The lights of the Dark City glittered in the distance. Roxas sat across from her, after going through the fridge for something to drink, what he had originally planned on getting when he ventured down to the kitchens in the first place. The clock up ahead said it was well past three am.

"Hey, Larxene, I have a question."

"Shoot," she responded, not making eye contact, her eyes still on the bleak horizon.

"Why were you making cookies?"

There was no response for a while, and Roxas thought for a moment that maybe he had insulted her and should get a head start running before he was made into a pincushion.

"Sometimes...I remember...making cookies," she answered finally. "My other and her family. I guess it's my sick way of getting to know my former self."

Roxas hadn't anticipated such an honest response. "It's not sick," he defended.

Her laugh was small, forced. It reminded him of dry paper. "It's no use trying to relate to someone I don't understand." The timer beeped, and she jumped deftly to the floor, adorning oven mitts as she made her way to the oven. "You should consider yourself lucky, Roxas. You don't remember your other self."

"How is that lucky?" he retorted bitterly, eyes narrowing as he watched her pull a tray out of the warmth.

"You have a clean slate" was the laconic response, ending with the sound of the tray hitting the countertop. "Put these on cooling racks," she demanded and returned to her solemn perch after putting in another tray.

Roxas adhered to her demand, inspecting and mediating lightly on the entirety of their conversation. His eyes moved over to the spot on the wall where Larxene's knife had embed itself; it was gone. A fast flight and vanished landing. He wondered if the scar still remained on the wall. Roxas returned to his drink, and soon after the timer voiced its test of patience. Soon, the smell of cookie has filled the room, emitting comforting warmth and a sweet, nostalgic smell. A wraith of a memory skirted his vision, teasing him; a gray streaked picture, nothing distinguishable, no color, just black and whites. Like the scenery passing by when you're speeding down empty city streets in a hijacked truck with the only friend _you've _ever known.

"Larxene," Roxas began, when he had finished unloading the last of the cookies. He was interrupted.

"That's enough for tonight. Just because we made cookies doesn't mean we're buddy-buddy. Think of it as guidance from the former neophyte to the newbie, kay?"  
And with that, she was gone, entering a portal as black and endless as the night outside, armed with a glass of milk and a plate of warm cookies. "Night, Roxy!" And she was gone, tendrils of darkness swept away by an unseen breeze.

She was right; he did have a clean slate. But he also had no reference point. On whose actions would he base his own? After all, he was just the leftovers; like the doughy grime in the silver bowl which Larxene so casually thrown aside. An action based on a memory from before, perhaps. The only true role model he had was some unknown boy who had become a heartless. You can't ask a heartless for information about your past life. The only clue he had was a key. But what door did it open?

He grabbed a few cookies, a few more for Axel too, in case the red-haired bastard decided to show up soon, and left the rest out, telling a passing Dusk he could eat them if it was hungry. If he got hungry, then they might too, right? It gave a courteous, _thank you, my liege_ before slinking speedily towards the kitchen.

He decided to try teleporting again, because it was too many flights of stairs to climb and he was carrying cookies and milk. To his surprise, he managed to arrive in his room, on top of his dresser, but it was a start. And that wasn't the only thing.

"Axel." Roxas jumped deftly to the carpeted floor.

"Hey," he responded, a smile playing on his lips as he looked up from a magazine. "I was wondering where you where--are those cookies!"

"Yea, you want-?" But Axel was already springing up from the bed, the magazine flying to the floor, second now that Roxas had introduced warm desert. Axel managed to steal four before Roxas told him off.

"Thanks, Rox," Axel said between mouthful.

"Say it, don't spray it," Roxas muttered the cliché disdainfully while wiping cookie crumbs off his face. Axel considered a vulpine smirk to be an adequate apology.

"So, what possessed you to make these?" Axel asked when he was satiated, leaning back on Roxas's bed, arms folded behind his head and a look of contentment upon his face.

"I didn't, La-a Dusk did" Roxas was pretty sure Larxene would cut his balls off if he mentioned that she baked.

Axel raised his eyebrow. "La Dusk?"

Roxas kept a straight face.

Axel dismissed the oddity, with a wry laugh. "Maybe it's a Nobody from that world I just visited." Axel ruffled Roxas hair when he gave the older Nobody a quizzical look. "It's called Europe, but I was in this one part called Pants, no, France. I was actually quite pretty in the City of Lights."

"City of Lights?"

"Yea, supposedly they're all about love and romance. I helped some unhappy citizens there. It was very rewarding. But they spoke this weirdass language." Axel groped for something in his pocket. "Vexen gave me this thing so that I could understand what they were saying." He handed Roxas a small black rectangle that blinked a green light and opened up to reveal map workings, messages from another Nobody and such. The words 'riot success' appeared as the title of a sent message, and Roxas linked the two, dismissing it soon after. Not his problem.

"How does it work?"

"I dunno, they talk, I understand. I don't care, as long as it works," Axel waved his hand around carelessly. "Maybe I should bring you there, they had a lot of weird stuff they called _fromage_."

"Froam whatty?"

"It's cheese."

"Oh. What's so great about cheese?"

"I dunno, maybe I got caught up in the Prench spirit..."

"Prench?" Roxas questioned.

"What?" Axel responded, equally confused.

"You said Prench." He pointed out.

"Oh, I meant French. See look what this thing is doing to me," he picked up Vexen's translator and chucked it across Roxas's room. It hit the wall and fell in a pile of dirty laundry. "Did it break?" Axel asked hopefully.

"Why do you care?"

"Cause I'm hoping old Vexy will get really mad and get a hemorrhoid or something."

Roxas rolled his eyes in disgust. "Get out of my room, I wanna go to bed."

Axel feigned a suddenly very sleepy state of well-being and began snoring loudly. Roxas glowered and tried to push him off his bed. Axel, being a very clever Nobody, went limp immediately and refused to be moved. Being angry, tired, exhausted, slightly confused about life's great ironies and mysteries, and, not to mention, French cheeses, Roxas gave up quickly, threw a boot at his light switch, which hit dead on (he smiled to himself about that) and got into bed. It was a big bed, he could careless. "Keep your hands to yourself, Axel. I want to sleep," Roxas growled irritably, pulling the sheets over his shoulder to ward off the cold that dominated the Nobody's Castle. Axel's low chuckle didn't comfort him.

At that moment on, Roxas vowed never again to leave his room after dark, no matter how sinister the ceiling looked.

**...Fin...**

Seven typed pages all in one sitting. It's 5am, and I'm leaving in four, maybe five hours to go to visit colleges. Do you love me? I would. Mmhmm, yes indeed.

I'm gonna correct and revise when I get back... I'm tired, I'm haullucinating. Marluxia is trying to steal my earrings and Vexen is playing science chef with my baking supplies. NOO! Vexen that's all my food coloring... TT (it's very expensive for like 20 drops... I'm not gonna bitch about it I swear). Maybe Xemnas will arrive and...and...no he won't make it better. He'll try to find Kingdom Hearts in my closet (this door's a flamer, shhh).

ok, the sky is not black anymore, I should just shower and sleep in the car... yup... there's a gross bug in my room... I can't sleep...

Much love, The Dream of Your Nightmare

Xaldin: That was cheesy.

Me: -smack- Shutup! I'm sleepyyyyyyyyyy! WAHHHHHHHHH!


End file.
